Cherries
by peppermint quartz
Summary: Shikamaru and Temari walk away from their re-meeting with Naruto. re-post. Not mine, not for profit.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: A repost - no changes except to the Author's Note. A couple of years ago someone got this story deleted - not sure why - and I didn't post it up, but every now and then some readers who remember it ask me where the heck it is. So it's back up. If it's deleted again... well, I'll decide what to do again.**

**_Disclaimer: the usual - Naruto belongs to someone else, not me. Gosh darn it._**

XxXxXxXxXx

"'Why would I go out with such a...?' Thanks, Temari, that was very nice of you," fumed Shikamaru as they turned the corner.

Temari walked sedately beside him. "What's wrong?" She stole a peep at his foul expression and grinned to herself. "What, a genius like you can't figure it out?"

"My brain stops working when I'm around you," Shikamaru groused. They paused at the usual junction. He nodded to the left, and they made for the shaved ice shop.

Temari walked a little ahead and turned about to face him, walking backwards. "That's strange... you look and sound exactly like Nara Shikamaru, but I heard a compliment coming from this direction. Who are you and what did you do with Shikamaru?"

"Shaddup."

As they settled down to enjoy their favorite dessert, Temari leaned forward conspiratorially. "It's a trick, Shikamaru,"she said. "You gotta answer questions with questions."

The dark haired chuunin leaned back against his seat. "Really."

"Trust me, Nara," Temari teased before attacking her lemon-flavored ice.

XxXxXxXxXx

The next day started brightly enough. Weather was a liar.

"A six-hour meeting, and then a working proposal by tomorrow evening." Shikamaru and Temari stared at the mountainous pile of paperwork before them. They shared a glassy-eyed look. Temari threw her head back and stretched. Shikamaru groaned as he sorted the papers. "What the hell was that troublesome old woman thinking of?"

"Keeping us busy?" Temari opened one eye. "I can't do this now, I'm beyond hungry. My stomach is digesting itself."

"Dinner at my place again?" Shikamaru offered with a lazy smile.

Temari returned it fully. "You just want me to help carry this load to your apartment."

"Damn. Busted."

XxXxXxXxXx

They managed to balance the tottering pile of paperwork through the door. Along the way other chuunin and jounin avoided them. Shikamaru grimaced with annoyance.

_S'not like they'd be asked to chip in and help_, he grumbled inwardly. _Alright, so Ilied, I'd have grabbed any jounin or chuunin with experience to assist. _

Temari installed herself in the study, rearranging his other piles of books and scrolls so that they'd have space to work in later. Shikamaru worked the kinks from his neck and went to the kitchen, where he promptly began cooking.

XxXxXxXxXx

"That was pretty darn good, Shikamaru," said Temari an hour later. She stacked the dishes in the sink and pulled on an apron.

Shikamaru sat on the couch digesting. He watched her shadow dance from the floor to the wall as she pulled on gloves and began washing up. It was strange, he mused as he turned his head to observe the real thing, strange that she fitted perfectly into his bachelor's pad. She didn't disrupt his living arrangements like Ino or his mother did, insisting there was a better way; Temari realized instinctively Shikamaru had his own reasons to arrange everything the way he did. The five dishes stacked on a shelf at eye level because he used them everyday; the large pots and pans his mother saddled him with in the tallest cabinet because he needed only a saucepan to cook dinner for one; the bookstand near the washbasin because he read compulsively; the little raised platform on the table for an unfinished shogi game to ponder over. She just knew, without him having to explain. It was a comfortable feeling to have someone understand.

It also didn't hurt that she looked very sexy yet domesticated with an apron around her.

Temari must've felt his gaze lingering on her, because she turned to regard him with a quizzical half-smile. Shikamaru pretended to yawn and walked into his study.

XxXxXxXxXx

"So if we link the study of historical antecedents in Suna to similar incidents in Konoha..." Shikamaru recorded the corresponding file numbers, "the history syllabus would then encompass enough breadth and depth to satisfy the purists. What d'you think, Temari?"

"Hmm? I'm awake, I'm awake," Temari shook herself out of her reverie.

Shikamaru closed the notebook. "You need to freshen up." He left the study. In five minutes he returned with an armful of fabric. "Here: clean towel, freshly laundered tee-shirt, drawstring bermudas. Toss your kimono into the basket, I might as well do my laundry now."

Temari blinked and then stood up resignedly. "You're right, I need a shower to wake up."

"I'll keep working."

XxXxXxXxXx

It was strange being in his bathroom, using his shampoo and soap. Strange to be drying herself with a towel she knew he had used before, and to put on clothes that belonged to him, that had been in contact with his skin. As she used the metal hairbrush to detangle her hair she realized her fingers were tingling.

She shook herself mentally. "You're just tired, Temari, that's why your mind is running wild. Get back to business, 'kay?"

"You always talk to yourself in the bathroom?"

"Gyaaahh!" The hairbrush Temari was using flew into the air and smacked into Shikamaru's head. He dropped the laundry basket he was holding and clothes spilled out.

"Ow?" the chuunin complained. "What did I do that you had to attack me with my own hairbrush?"

"You scared me!" accused Temari. She bent down and assisted Shikamaru with picking up the clothes.

Shikamaru paused, his hand reaching for something on the floor. "Last time I saw you, you flattened a _frikkin' forest_. You telling me about scared?"

"Well I didn't expect you to barge in before I got out!" she said, yanking at whatever Shikamaru was holding. The blond jounin snarled. "I thought you'd be a gentleman and wait for me to exit before you came in!"

"The water stopped running ten minutes ago, FYI, and you'd probably shrink into a human prune if you'd stayed in the water any longer!" Shikamaru pulled the fabric back towards himself.

Then they both looked at what they were fighting over.

"Um, maybe you'd like to load the washing machine instead," Shikamaru said, letting go of the lacy black thong, his face bright red. He picked the basket up, noticed the matching bra within and averted his eyes. "I'll just, uh, lug this basket over."

"Sure, whatever," replied Temari, equally crimson.

XxXxXxXxXx

They sat together in the cramped study again, neither looking at each other.

"Then there's the study of traditional weaponry," said Temari, pushing the relevant book over to him.

Shikamaru grunted. "We can also consider different styles of combat as part of the theory syllabus."

"Sounds good," answered Temari. She picked out a scroll from the few dozen in the holder and opened it. The light from his table lamp caught deep golden glints in her sandy blond hair. Shikamaru watched the play of light and shadow across her features: eyes, focused on the paper, her lips given the perfect definition through contrast, the pert nose, her smooth cheeks...

"... Shikamaru?"

"What?" He was caught off-guard. What did she ask him?

"I asked for your input on students learning about body armor."

"Sure, whatever you say."

Temari put down her pen. She faced Shikamaru. "Okay, this isn't working out. We're both worn out and we keep... losing focus. Once my kimono's tumbled dry I'll head back to the hotel."

Shikamaru pressed his lips together and nodded. "Yeah, that's a good idea."

XxXxXxXxXx

A/N: don't worry people, smut in the next chapter. Temari fulfils her promise.


	2. Chapter 2

As they waited in the dim living room, three feet apart, the clock struck twelve.

"Hey, we're not up that late," said Shikamaru, stifling a yawn. "Temari?"

Temari was snoozing on the sofa. Shikamaru looked at the sleeping kunoichi and smiled tenderly. He walked over to her and woke her up, shaking her shoulder. "Hey."

"Mmmm?"

"You wanna just bunk over for the night? I'll get you set up in my room, then I'll sleep out here or in the study."

"I'll get lonely," she mumbled dreamily, looking through misted eyes at him. Shikamaru swallowed. That was a picture he did not want to paint, not yet. He shook her again, a little more firmly. "Wake up, Temari, and then sleep in my room."

Temari sat up a little straighter. She examined Shikamaru's face, cast in shadow. Then she looped her arms about his neck and kissed him soundly on the lips.

"Oh no," Shikamaru muttered, pulling himself away through pure force of will, "not now. You won't even remember this in the morning."

"So if I can remember, you won't pull away?" Temari's voice was teasing.

Shikamaru narrowed his eyes. "That – just now was just an act, wasn't it?"

"Maybe."

_Two can play at that game_, Shikamaru thought as he approached the kunoichi. He grabbed her wrists roughly and pinned her down on the sofa. "Is this just a spot of fun for you, Temari?"

Temari's breath caught. All through the day and the evening they had been avoiding physical contact. Just now it had been a tease. Now the air space between them sizzled with anticipation.

"Let me go," she ordered. Her voice sounded wrong even to herself: husky and breathless. She swallowed the catch in her throat.

Shikamaru shifted his weight so he could look into her eyes while she wouldn't be able to read his expression. "No."

"Let me go now."

"Why should I?"  
>"Because you're a good boy," cajoled Temari. There was a hint of apprehension in her clear eyes, no longer clouded by misty dreaminess.<p>

"I am not good and I am not a boy," said Shikamaru in a low voice, bending down to her. His nose was a shadow's width from her cheek."And you are a manipulative, troublesome woman who needs to be taught a lesson." He crushed her lips with a hard kiss.

She struggled to free her hands, to push him away, to fight back, but to her terror and thrill Temari discovered Shikamaru had added physical strength to his repertoire. He was stronger than she was. That was new. And exciting.

His lips were demanding, pressing against hers, and as she opened her mouth to protest he silenced her with his tongue.

It was not remotely like the teasing interlude she had initiated, almost a year ago, on the top of the Hokage cliff face. Shikamaru pinned her wrists above her head and switched to a one-handed grip. His right hand slid down her torso, and groped its way up beneath the loose tee shirt she wore. She tried to wriggle away but to no avail.

Temari gasped when Shikamaru pulled away from her lips. Before she could protest his treatment of her, Shikamaru's left hand let go of her wrists and joined its partner beneath the tee shirt. As his cool hands skimmed her skin, leaving fiery traces in their wake, she reached for Shikamaru's hands to pull them away. Then she realized she made a tactical error: her hands were outside her shirt while his were already teasing at the soft swell of her breasts. Her frantic grab had pushed his hands more firmly up against herself.

"Easy now, Temari," he crooned throatily. Again he anticipated her next move, intercepted her hands and proceeded to kiss her, long and tender this time, as his fingers began tracing patterns on her breasts. Temari felt lightheaded as he took his attentions to her neck, and his fingers flicked at her nipples. Her freed hands, desperate for an anchor, grabbed at him blindly and directed his face and lips to her collarbone. Now he had taken her right nipple and was rolling it between his fingers. His other hand slid behind her, to push her into his embrace. He licked along the curve of her neck to a spot just below her ear.

Temari moaned, leaning into the erotic caress. Shikamaru grunted and pulled away.

"We'll be more comfortable on my bed," he answered her mute query as she struggled to a sitting position. Before Temari could frame any reasonable argument to leave the apartment he had swept her up in his arms. Shikamaru grinned down at her and whispered, "You have some heft to you."

Temari colored. "Nara, if you're saying I'm fat -"

"No," Shikamaru interrupted her with a quick kiss – too quick for Temari – and lay her out on his narrow bed. "I like my women to be voluptuous and curvy. Both of which you are."

"Who are you and what did you do with the nice, innocent boy called Shikamaru?" demanded Temari throatily. She felt weak and not in control, both of which was repugnant to her nature. Yet, when he looked at her with those dark eyes, eyes like the shadows he plays about with...

"I told you, I'm not good and not a boy," said Shikamaru. "Definitely not gonna play nice, and as for innocent..." He licked her on her neck, the same spot he was concentrating on just now. He pushed her questing hands down. His hands slipped to her slim waist and, in one efficient motion, tore the tee shirt off from her. "I never liked that shirt anyway."

He straddled her, his knees on her palms so she wouldn't be able to push him off. He took his time taking off his own tee shirt, allowing himself a smirk when he saw her eyes roaming over his lean physique. He got off her hands but did not free her wrists; he rubbed his body against her, distracted her while he positioned her hands above her head. In the exact same position as they were on the battered green sofa in the living room.

"What are you doing, Nara?" demanded Temari breathily as he secured her wrists to the headboard with two cotton bandannas.

"Trust me," Shikamaru said and licked her nose. Temari wriggled, trying to free herself. "Uh-uh-uh, we're playing my way tonight. I'm in charge in my own home."

"Like hell you armmmmm..ooohhh." Her angry retort was channeled when his fingers began playing with her ample breasts and nipples again. She tried to twist out of his embrace. "Don't ... oh god, stop, Nara, don't... I can't..."

"Alright then, I won't stop," he whispered, his lips feather-soft on her skin. He shifted his mouth to take over from his fingers, while his hand got to work on the other breast. Her breathing quickened to little gasps. He groaned as she arched against him, and he divested himself of his pants and assisted her with the drawstring bermudas.

Her legs were clenched tight together. Shikamaru regarded Temari's face: a little fearful, a little anticipatory, a little embarrassed. He smiled up at her as he lowered his head to kiss her belly button, his tongue darting in the slight depression and earning him a surprised giggle. Encouraged by the response Shikamaru began kissing and licking her slightly rounded belly. He could feel her abdominal muscles tensing and relaxing into his efforts. His right hand slid down the side of her body and slipped in the small of her back; his left hand traced her skin down to her outer thigh and slowly drew into between her legs.

Temari almost cried out, but choked back the response. Her anxiety didn't go unnoticed; Shikamaru looked at her looking at him, and murmured softly a reassurance.

"Trust me, Temari, I'm not going to hurt you." His fingers were stroking her nether lips, his kisses and licks falling on her mound of Venus. She writhed and twisted, instinctively trying to convey what mere words could not phrase. Shikamaru's fingers slid between her labia, rubbing her clitoris: first slowly, then with pulsating urgency, then a change in pace and rhythm, then all over again until she was swimming with need.

Temari whimpered. She wanted to say something, to do something. She strained her arms to free her wrists, but Shikamaru knew his knots and she had to endure the exquisite torture he was visiting on her. Shikamaru's kisses trailed down to where his fingers were and his tongue proceeded to excite her to feverish pitch. His fingers clenched her pert butt, squeezing and releasing. She could feel her mind slipping; she was wet and hungry and eager and ready for so much more...

"God you taste amazing," he groaned as he drew himself up between her legs and his lips sought hers again. She could taste herself in his mouth. Her hips bucked and pushed at the weight above her body, and her legs wrapped about his hips. Her thighs tightened and unclenched in anticipation of an as yet unfulfilled desire. Temari was only vague cognizant that Shikamaru was as aroused as she was. His length pressed against her, but he restrained his impulse to take her in one quick thrust. He claimed her mouth again, rubbing his manhood against her clitoris; she was incredibly sensitive there. She writhed beneath him again, her gasps and moans no longer forming coherent syllables. But Shikamaru wanted something else.

"Do you want me, Temari?" he demanded, voice thick with barely contained want. He braced himself on his forearms, his fingers entwined in her sandy blond hair.

"Yes, oh Nara,... oaoohh, yes," breathed out Temari, her hands flexing and releasing. Her fingers scrabbled at the wooden headboard, aching to be involved.

Shikamaru felt the painful throbbing between his legs and decided that logic and rationality can go to hell. He slipped both hands under her and slipped into her warmth in one long, hard thrust.

Temari whimpered at the sudden shock of pain, but that was soon subsumed by Shikamaru's renewed efforts. They found their rhythm, lost it, and then found it again as his hips ground and pumped against her. She bucked and thrust at him, feeling her desire and love and passion mount within until it was a raging river of emotion. She screamed his name as she peaked, her back arching into his body.

Temari wanted, needed to hold him, to feel him beneath her hands, but it was he who clung to her as he climaxed with a choked cry. The chuunin held on to his woman as he drew shuddering breaths into his body, murmuring her name over and over.

He kissed her breasts and her lips tenderly, reaching up to undo the knots. He settled himself beside her on that narrow bed, their limbs entwined and their faces a breath away from each other.

"My wrists hurt," Temari said softly with a pout. She rubbed the sore joints and winced.

Shikamaru kissed her very tempting lips. He took the wrists and massaged them. "I'm sorry about that, Temari. I'll make it up to you for this, I promise."

"Hmmm..." Temari snuggled up to him. "Sounds promising... but why did you... y'know... tonight?"

Shikamaru reached around her and showed her the digital clock. It was just past midnight.

"The date, Temari. Look at the date."

"Twenty-second September," read Temari. Then she flushed. "You mean... the – the promise I said..."

"I remembered, Temari. And I kept mine for you as you kept yours for me," whispered Shikamaru with a smirk as his hands roamed her curves freely. "I was afraid you'd deny ever making that promise, so I decided to take things into my own hands."

Temari squirmed as he squeezed her butt. "And if I did deny the claim?"

"I'd take you just the same, Sabaku no Temari. Only harder, and faster, and more desperate, before you can think of killing me with that fan of yours."

"Show me then, Nara." Temari's breath caught in her throat again as she wrapped her arms about him.

Shikamaru grinned lopsidedly. "I love a challenge."


End file.
